


The Walk Down Memory Lane

by GlitchyPix



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Gen, Rain, Surreal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 03:24:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15330663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitchyPix/pseuds/GlitchyPix
Summary: "She missed the feeling of a warm house despite it only being an hour since he had been inside of one, it wasn't like she was able to turn back anyhow. She's on her own from here on out, no father looking out for her. A part of her was glad but, yet, a part of her resented the fact she was stuck in the freezing cold."A story of a woman sitting out in the rain and reminiscing





	The Walk Down Memory Lane

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote this about 5 months ago as practice for my creative writing since I was still doing GCSEs. I decided to upload it to Quotev back then but, now, I just decided to post it here. This story is based on a one-act play I wrote called Five Years Pass which I might just re-adapt as a story and post here one day

The clouds were on a fierce tirade, heaving out droplet after droplet upon the Earth beneath them. The water drops mixed in with the monotone concrete, creating a shimmer of light as a lamp post lit up the surrounding area. A park of green and mud lay behind the paved path that separated the park and the road. On this pavement sat a tiny bench that was seated beside a tree. The tree held leaves that were droopy and wet as if the weight of the world was upon them. They remained steady on their branches, however, no threat of falling challenging them as they were pelted with translucent bullets. They didn't make for a brilliant shelter but it was enough for the bench that had remained mostly dry. It was certainly enough for the girl sitting on the bench.

This girl had raven hair, darkened by the rain and cold. There was a light jacket upon her shoulders, the tiniest bit of warmth cradling her as she sat out in the arctic winds that howled and moaned. She missed the feeling of a warm house despite it only being an hour since he had been inside of one, it wasn't like she was able to turn back anyhow. She's on her own from here on out, no father looking out for her. A part of her was glad but, yet, a part of her resented the fact she was stuck in the freezing cold. London wasn't a very forgiving city; its weather was ridiculous and its nights went on for far too long. You'd half expect it to start snowing some nights but its clouds were lazy to a fault. It was windy and there was a lot of rain but snow was too much for them.

The callow girl lifted her gaze towards the tree that sheltered her, her eyes catching a sapphire figure wrapped within the twisting branches. Upon closer inspection, it seemed to be a kite, a diamond-shaped kite with a tangled mess of string and sunny ribbon for a tail. There was also a tear in its centre, a scar at its core that wouldn't easily be repaired. The raven-haired girl held sympathy for whoever the kite belonged to, it was tattered and torn within an inch of its life.

She could remember a time where she'd have played with a similar kite. Out in a lush field, posies and primroses along its sides as daisies were scattered along the grass. She'd be a cheetah, sprinting along the pasture with her tiny hands grabbing ahold a strand of string the lead to the body of an elegant butterfly. It would dip and dive at random as the wind would drag and drop. She'd eventually stop, a simple turn towards her butterfly as she watched it soar through the air on its own. A short-lived fun but fun nonetheless. Eventually, the butterfly would land and she'd return to her father, butterfly in arm and ready to go home. She had to have been about five or six at that age, she never saw her mother during those memories. She barely remembered her at all.

The juvenile young woman had a habit of losing herself in memories, losing herself in the past. She acted like remembering would maybe help her cope, like remembering and snarking at how stupid the situation was, how stupid she was and how stupid her dad was would actually make her feel better. It didn't but she pretended that it did. It's why she always wrote in her diary, so she couldn't forget or let go. It was doing more harm than good and she was probably torturing herself but she couldn't care less. 

Her gaze fled to the ground, her eyes scanning the shiny pavement that revealed her reflection. Long, drenched hair of charcoal and dampened, beige skin were the main features left in the mirror on the ground but she focused on the gaze of muddy brown pools that held the spot of irises. She looked weak, cold and tired as she shivered from the sheer cold, a sudden gust of wind enveloping and attacking her. There was nothing left.

That was when felt the rain stop.

Looking up, her gaze caught the sight of another figure, petite, pale and covered in pink from her skirt to the umbrella she was holding out. Her eyes were a shade of hopeful baby blue, her smile lighting up the darkest of nights and her sunshine hair, drenched yet warm. She held out a fair hand, helping the charcoal-haired woman to her feet. That hand then turned to wrap around the slightly taller drenched figure who, in turn, folded her arms around the bright girl in front of her. 

A minute went by before the golden-haired girl spoke up, her soft and gentle voice delighting the girl in front of her.

"Let's go home,"

And so they did, damp steps taken forward through the darkened streets. The two young women, drenched in the bullet rain and shivering, made their journey back home.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small editorial to clear things up
> 
> \- The raven-haired woman's name is Marlina Raynott  
> \- The blonde-haired woman's name is Amelia Morris  
> \- Marlina and Amelia are girlfriends which is why Amelia says 'let's go home'  
> \- Marlina left her home due to a situation with her father who she lived with. This is elaborated on in the play  
> \- Marlina and Amelia are both 18 years old in this story


End file.
